


Let Your Heart Be Light

by thefandomsinhalor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adults, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Sabriel, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, I will add tags as I go along, Kid Fic, M/M, Pining, Sam and Dean are closer in age, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27948065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefandomsinhalor/pseuds/thefandomsinhalor
Summary: On Christmas Eve, five-year-old Dean meets a boy of the same age, named Castiel. With every passing year, their friendship blossoms, and soon, Dean knows that he is drawn to his friend more deeply he’d like to admit.The question is: will he do something about it before it’s too late?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter One: Thursday, December 24, 1998

**Author's Note:**

> I have a million WIPs to work on (and still am), but I think in light of everything, my soul needed to write something like this. I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> A big thank you to [Danica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danica_Dust/pseuds/Danica_Dust) and Landrala 💙💜💙💜💙💙💜

“Dean, honey, what do we say?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Ho-ho-ho!”

The man pretending to be Santa Claus amicably bopped Dean’s head before walking away to the next couple of children standing by, awaiting their present.

Yes, Dean Winchester, despite being five-year-old, wasn’t fooled by this imposter. He knew this man couldn’t possibly be the real one.

It was quite simple, really. It was late afternoon, he hadn’t climbed down the chimney, nor had he any cookie or milk laid out for him.

And then, there was the gift in question.

Dean didn’t want to seem ungrateful, as he knew his mother wouldn’t like it, but he had been very specific in his letter to Santa.

And there was no way this flat, though rather large, box contained the very intricate race track set he had begged for.

But that was fine. As he had concluded, this man wasn’t Santa. He was just pretending. Like the one at the mall. Or the one near the video store.

No. The real Santa was yet to come.

“Don’t you want to know what you got?” his father asked him.

Glancing around him, Dean realized that nearly every child had already torn open the wrappings and were enjoying their Christmas surprises. Fire trucks. Coloring books. Dolls and soldier toys. Even Sammy, sitting on his mother’s lap, was hugging a cute teddy bear. 

Feeling the stare of both his parents on him, Dean began tearing off the metallic blue and silver wrapping, which had snowflakes of various shapes on it, and was left staring at his present, puzzled once he had opened the box.

He had no idea what he was looking at. It was a thin layer of material, of a bright yellow color, with adorable bees depicted on it, stretched across a wooden frame, and a string attached to it.

“Oooh, that’s nice,” said Mary gleefully.

Noticing his confused state, John asked him, “Do you know what this is, Dean?”

Frowning, he shook his head at his father.

“It’s a kite,” he said kindly. “You make it fly.”

Dean lowered his eyes to look at his present again.

“Like in _Mary Poppins_ ,” said Mary. “You remember?”

He nodded.

“Next time we go to the park,” said John, “we’ll try it. Or even when we visit Uncle Bobby. He certainly has the open fields around his house for it.”

A grown-up, one of many present swarming around in the house, then called out to Dean’s parents. It was a nice lady named Tamara who smiled at Dean and wished him Merry Christmas.

“Isaac is somewhere in the parlor talking with Rufus and Bill Harvelle. They were asking for you, John,” she said to Dean’s father.

“Bill?” said Mary. “Did he and Ellen bring little Joanna with them?”

“That’s what he said. I was just on my way to find them.”

Keeping Sam in her arms, Mary stood up from her seat, scanning the room for her friend.

“I’ll go check on Isaac and the others, and then I’ll catch up with you to see Ellen and the baby,” said John, smiling at his wife’s eagerness to see the newborn. He then turned to his son. “Do you want to say hello with me, Dean? Or would you prefer going with Mom, Sammy and Tamara?”

Dean shrugged. Talking to grown-ups wasn’t exactly what he considered a thrilling activity. Of course, there were exceptions.

Due to his lack of enthusiasm, however, his mother then suggested, “How about you stay here with the other children?”

Another questionable prospect, thought Dean.

Most of the kids in the living room, laughing and playing with their new toys, seemed much older than he was.

And more importantly, he didn’t really know any of them.

The celebration, which Dean and his family were taking part in that day, had been hosted by Mr. Donatello Redfield, one of Dean’s neighbors.

Except for when John had raked his lawn in the fall, a task dutifully assisted by Dean—though he had mainly played in the pile of dead leaves while his father had done most of the work—Dean hadn’t had much interaction with Mr. Redfield.

He remembered that he had been very generous at Halloween when he and Sam had stopped by his house. Mr. Redfield had given them enormous delicious candy bars. And Dean also recalled him letting him taste his spicy chicken wings on the Fourth of July, in the previous summer.

But nothing much beyond that, and especially during Christmastime. For reasons unknown to Dean, Mr. Redfield didn’t make a fuss of the holidays. He typically travelled somewhere exotic and returned home in the new year with a sunburn on his nose.

This year, however, had been different. For health-related reasons, or so Dean had heard, Mr. Redfield had been recommended to pause his travels, and given his holiday habits, many of his concerned neighbors feared he would feel lonely and had wanted to keep him company.

So, due to numerous dotting neighbors, friends and colleagues showing up at his doorstep throughout the months of November and December, Mr. Redfield had decided to host a Christmas family-friendly party on Christmas Eve to thank everyone.

His first ever.

The crowd was merry. Laughter and cheers from children and adults alike filled the entire house.

But despite the jolly vibe in the air and the numerous children present, Dean hadn’t been too keen on exploring on his own.

When he told his parents why that was, his mother said, “That’s a good thing, sweetie. It means you can make a new friend. Okay?”

Assessing his mild hesitation, after he had glanced apprehensively at the other children, she pointed out that he had nothing to worry about and that if he was shy, he could start by joining another of their neighbors. For example, near the fireplace, Mrs. Missouri, a kind and generous woman, was comfortably sitting in a rocking chair, telling a story to a few children who had gathered around her, listening with attention and with wide eyes.

Suddenly determined to prove that he was _not_ shy, Dean shook his head and said, “I’ll go play with the others, first.”

Even if he really wanted to say hello to Missouri as well.

“Alright, buddy. Do you want me to hold this for you while you do that?” said his father, pointing at his kite, but Dean expressed that he wanted to keep it with him.

And without further ado, young Dean turned on his heels and joined the group of children, searching for a new friend.

He was briefly tempted to approach a joyous girl with a blond ponytail and a sheriff’s hat that was too big for her. She was laughing with her friend who had a very strange haircut. His hair was very short in the front, but really long in the back. They were playing Connect Four, which Dean enjoyed playing.

He changed his mind, however, when a bunch of older children swooped by, running around, taking a lot of space.

Feeling somewhat intimidated by them, Dean briefly glimpsed back to the spot where his parents and his brother had been a moment ago.

But they were no longer present, as he knew they wouldn’t be.

He swallowed hard and decided to go near the large window across the room to avoid the bigger kids. He kneeled next to the Christmas tree, taking in the overwhelming scent of pine and cinnamon, and observed the room from this new angle, holding on tightly to his kite.

Everyone else seemed to know each other and blissfully occupied themselves with their toys.

Which made sense, thought Dean, as their toys could be enjoyed in their current environment.

Unlike his.

“Hello.”

Dean looked up.

A boy his age and height, with bright blue eyes and thick, wavy dark hair, was suddenly standing right in front of him. He was wearing a green knitted sweater with an angel on it and his socks were different colors.

“Hi.”

“Do you want one?” the boy asked politely.

He was holding a square box against him with one hand.

And then, Dean’s eyes fell on what the boy was presenting him with his other hand.

Star-shaped sugar cookies.

“For me?”

The boy nodded.

After Dean accepted his generous offer, the boy sat next to him and they both ate their treats next to each other.

“What did you get?” he asked Dean, nodding at what he was holding.

Pursing his lips, Dean showed him his kite. Expecting the boy to be as disappointed as he was, he was then stunned to see the boy’s eyes widen.

“You’re so lucky,” he told him.

“You think so?”

“I like bees,” he said, after nodding. “And kites are fun.”

“I’ve never had one before.” Eyeing the box that the boy had rested next to him, he said, “What’s yours?”

And the boy slid himself closer to Dean to show him.

 _Right_ next to him.

They delicately opened the box together.

And to Dean’s delight, the boy retrieved a giant rainbow slinky.

“Whoa! That’s so cool. Can we play with it?”

“You like it?”

His eyes glued to it in adoration, Dean nodded.

The boy bit his lip for a second, as though he was pondering on something, and then said, “Do you want it?”

Young Dean blinked. “What?”

“We can exchange, if you want.”

“Really?”

And moments later, both boys were content with their _new_ presents. Dean certainly believed that he had gotten the better end of that deal. At that thought, a mild pit grew in his stomach, not unlike when he sometimes lied to his mother about brushing his teeth.

Feeling uneasy that he had perhaps taken advantage of his new friend’s generosity, he asked him, “Are you sure you don’t want the slinky? It’s really fun and the colours are nice. It was yours first. I—if you changed your mind, it’s okay.”

But the adorable boy in question did not mind. In fact, he informed Dean that the main reason why he was so keen on having the kite was because his brother had one of his own. So now, he would be able to accompany him to the park without having to constantly ask him to share.

Reassured—not to mention, very glad to know he could keep his rainbow slinky—Dean said, “I have a brother too. He’s younger than me.”

“I have more than one brother. I have three. They’re all older than me.” The boy hadn’t said it with as much enthusiasm as Dean had. His brief morose expression disappeared though, and a warm grin spread on his face when his eyes met Dean’s.

His bright blue eyes staring back at him.

“What’s your name? I’m—” started saying the other boy, but he was cut off by an impeccably dressed teenager, who had stopped right in front of them.

“Castiel, there you are. Come, now. We have to go.”

Dean’s new friend shook his head vehemently at the teen. “No. I want—I just made a friend. Can I stay a little longer? Please?”

“Aunt Naomi said we have to leave now or we’ll be late.”

“Michael, please? I’ll—”

“She asked me to find you. I found you, now come on.”

“Michael,” hissed a woman. “It’s time to go—Gabe, stop! You’re making me dizzy.”

A child with sandy hair, not much older than Dean and Castiel, was running relentlessly around her, chortling and unspent.

“Castiel, say goodbye.” And his brother presented him his hand, signalling to him that he had to leave immediately.

He turned facing Dean and said softly, “Goodbye.” And added, waving at him, “Thank you for the kite. I love it.”

“Bye.” And Dean thanked him as well.

He watched his new friend walk away towards his family members, a large group, mostly consisting of older kids and adults, and disappeared through the crowd.

Feeling lonely once more, Dean was suddenly sad when he realized that he never had the chance to tell him his name.

He comforted himself, however, that he had caught the boy’s name, and was now eager to tell his parents of his new friend and how pleased he was that he had received a Christmas present from a friend for the very first time.

And that was the day Dean had met his best friend Castiel Novak. His best friend of many years to come. And one day, perhaps, something more.


	2. Chapter Two: Friday, December 24, 1999

Laughter and humming were heard in the Winchester kitchen all afternoon long.

Dean’s mother, Mr. Redfield and a friend of his, Mrs. Middleton—or _Gertie_ , as she kept insisting Mary called her—had taken over the room with the intention of baking delicious apple pies and other pastries. Numerous celebrations were occurring in the neighborhood on that very evening, and unable to attend every single one of them, they had decided that the next best thing was to regroup, and prepare delectable desserts to distribute at their ease later on for everyone to enjoy.

That had been the plan, anyway, and Mary was very glad of the company and assistance since baking was, perhaps, not her strong suit. ~~~~

Mrs. Middleton had come to help, accompanied by her young daughter, Celeste, a shy red-head girl, who appeared to be very attentive to everything around her. Also present were Ash, an odd, yet very kind, boy, and his best friend, little Donna, who still went everywhere with her sheriff’s hat. Something that Celeste seemed to think was very funny. Ash and Donna had been left in the care of Mr. Redfield by their parents for the afternoon, due to last-minute errands. And when Mr. Redfield had mentioned to Mary the possibility of other people (and friends) joining them, fearing to impose a larger group than initially planned, Mary had assured him the policy in the Winchesters’ house was “the more, the merrier.”

Thus, alongside his new friends and his younger brother Sam, Dean had been tasked to help in the so-called Santa’s home bakery.

Sam and Dean had assisted Mary with the measurements, following Mrs. Middleton’s instructions, while Mr. Redfield had overseen the gingerbread cookies, aided by Ash and Donna.

Mary had let Dean delicately add the cinnamon after she had laid out the pieces of apples, and once the third pie had been finished, and his mother seemed encouraged by the end result, she continued with the fourth one, as Mrs. Middleton let little Celeste taste the custard for other desserts.

Now, despite the cheers and delicious aroma, baking pies, however interesting it may have seemed, was certainly not as engrossing as eating them, concluded Dean.

His attention span often wandered and he had been tempted more than once to simply leave the kitchen and return to his toys.

But given the company and that his mother insisted on him staying within her sight, he knew he most likely wouldn’t be able to do so until the baking was done.

He also believed that the fact that his father had caught him snooping around the presents every morning since they had been put under the tree (or every opportunity that had presented itself afterwards, really), might have had something to do with that too.

So, his amazing rainbow slinky and his Hot Wheels would have to wait.

That being said, while cooking wasn’t very stimulating for his spirit, he nonetheless enjoyed the company. Mr. Redfield was telling them amusing stories of his past adventures during his Christmas vacations, and Mary handed him the occasional piece of apple dipped in cinnamon and caramel.

That was definitely worth sticking around for.

And then, just as his mother was about to switch the pies for the cookies in the oven, the doorbell rang.

She excused herself and headed toward the front door, while Mr. Redfield took it upon himself to take care of the baked goods in the meantime.

Soon after, however, Dean was surprised to hear his mother call for Mr. Redfield. Their visitor, it seemed, was requesting a word with him.

Which intrigued Dean immensely.

Mr. Redfield left the kitchen, and once Dean assessed that Mrs. Middleton was focused on helping Ash clean his hands and face—he had thought it funny to draw on himself a moustache made of batter—Dean slid down his chair with extreme caution, making sure not to fall or attract unnecessary attention to himself. Just before turning the corner leading down the hall, he glanced behind him one last time. Celeste was playing with the plastic cookie cutter, while Donna was eyeing the timer on the fridge, determined to ensure the cookies wouldn’t burn.

And Sam, still sitting safely next to Mrs. Middleton, was laughing at Ash’s clean up.

Dean pressed on, the voices coming from the entrance became more discernible, and he paused when he finally could see the scene before him.

But he remained at the corner of the hallway, out of sight.

“Again, so sorry for the intrusion.”

“Nonsense, Naomi,” said Mr. Redfield. Standing next to Mary, he was holding a thick binder, as well as a few containers. “You were invited.”

“I know, but tracking you down to give you additional workload during the holidays…it’s not the policy we usually strive for at Host Co. So, just—don’t strain yourself. Look at it if you can.”

“It’s no problem. And are you sure you can’t stay?”

“Yes, I was about to make coffee,” said Mary. “Or would you prefer tea?”

“I would love to, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said the woman at the door. Despite her earnest tone, there was a severe air about her. Dean wasn’t sure if it was her formal attire or that not a single hair on her head seemed out of place. “There is too much to do back home before the guests arrive. Errands and—but it’s why I thought of bringing these,” she said, pointing at the containers Mr. Redfield was holding. “Some dishes and treats my family have done. Feel free to share them with your loved ones during the holidays, or even keep them amongst yourselves this afternoon. I also took the liberty to add ready-to-cook homemade dough and a few recipes for you to try if you feel like it. I know it’s not the same but…”

She let out a big sigh at the end of her sentence.

“That’s very thoughtful,” said Mary. “We will be sure to try them.” She paused a moment, and then added, “Anything we can do to help with your errands?”

“Oh, no. Thank you. Really. But I’ll be fine. I simply need to—boys! Gabriel, don’t wander off,” she said, after something caught her attention to her left.

“Yours?” asked Mary.

The woman shook her head. “My nephews. Boys, come here and say hello.” Two boys suddenly appeared to her side.

One with curvy sandy hair and a mischievous smile.

And one with thick, dark hair.

And blue eyes.

Dean shifted on his feet.

The boy.

The one from last year.

Castiel.

Since their first encounter, Dean had been on the lookout for his new friend.

He had searched for him at school after the Christmas break the year before, and in September when the new school year had begun.

He had paid attention whenever they went to the park. Particularly for a yellow kite.

Much to his dismay, however, Dean hadn’t had a lot of luck to cross paths with him.

And yet, he hadn’t been _entirely_ without luck, either.

Dean had spotted him twice in the past year.

But only twice, and he had not been able to interact with him on either of these occurrences.

The first time had been in the spring, during a classmate’s birthday party at the bowling alley. When Dean was patiently waiting for his turn, he observed the players from other groups around them. He had been fascinated by a group of women all wearing the same purple shirt with something written on it that Dean hadn’t been able to properly read. One petite woman had bright, long red hair and was dominating the others who were already excellent players. As he had continued watching them strike at nearly every turn, his eyes then fell on the large group in the lane next to them. A few adults. Some teenagers. And two boys.

One of them had been Castiel.

Dean had stood on his feet with the sudden urge to stride off and say hello to his friend.

But he wasn’t with his parents and the grown-ups overseeing the party that day had been very clear: no wandering off from the lane, except to go to the bathroom, which had to be accompanied by an adult.

Their strict rules hadn’t given Dean the impression that they would allow him that fancy.

And attempting to go undetected also had seemed like a bad idea. He hadn’t wished to get in trouble, even if he had felt that what he wanted to do wasn’t a bad thing.

So, he had waited it out, keeping an eye on the group, hoping that by the time his father came to pick him up they would still be there.

His heart had sunk, sadly, when he had seen Castiel and his family leave as the birthday cake was being cut, knowing he had lost his chance.

The second time he had recognized him was at the end of the summer, during one of his father’s softball matches.

Dean had been sitting next to his mother and Sam, enjoying a cherry slushy, with the bright sun shining over them, when he noticed a boy with dark hair and a striking blue t-shirt, trotting behind his family members, searching for a place to sit.

Dean had stared at him, fixed on his spot, wanting to make sure his eyes weren’t betraying him.

But he hadn’t been imagining things. Castiel had really been there, sitting with his family, enjoying an ice cream, at the far other end of the benches.

Not wasting one moment, Dean jumped to his feet with the firm intention of reaching him this time.

Unfortunately, he had been immediately stopped by his mother who had been surprised to see her son attempting to simply leave right in the middle of a large crowd and without informing her.

“You know that’s dangerous,” she had told him.

“I just want to say hello to my friend. I won’t be far and I’ll come back right after.”

He had tried to free himself from her pull, but it hadn’t worked.

“Dean, sweetie, no. I’m not letting you walk away alone.”

“But he’s right there!”

And his mother had lifted her eyebrow indicating that it wasn’t up for discussion.

“We’ll make sure that you can see your friend after the match, okay? But not right now.”

“But—no! He’ll leave—”

“He won’t, honey.” Assessing that her son was not convinced, she had asked him to show him whom his friend was. 

Awkwardly, Dean had pointed in Castiel’s direction. “The one with the blue shirt.”

“Now that I know who your friend is, I promise we’ll say hello later,” she had said to him, smiling.

“But what if he leaves before the end of the match?”

“We’ll keep an eye on him and if it looks that way, we’ll go. _Together_ ,” she added firmly. “But not right now. Uncle Bobby is about to play. I know you don’t want to miss that.”

She had been right. He hadn’t wanted to miss it.

Even if he also had really wanted to speak to Castiel at that moment.

So, Dean had taken his seat back and looked straight ahead at the match.

And his eyes shifted back to Castiel.

It had seemed promising for a while, especially when he noticed that his mother was also keeping an eye on Castiel’s family, but soon, the wind turned, and before the end of the match, a large storm had unexpectedly emerged and forced everyone to run back to their vehicle to take cover from the pouring rain.

Leaving Dean without a chance to say hello, once more.

And that had been it. His two instances during the whole year.

Until now.

It seemed, at last, that a third opportunity had presented itself.

“This is Gabriel and Castiel,” said Naomi.

“Hello! Merry Christmas, boys,” said Mary kindly to them.

“Merry Christmas,” they said in unison.

“Do you live in the neighborhood? Perhaps you know my sons and their friends here?”

But before either of them could answer, Naomi said, “Hmm. I doubt it. My brother lives on the other side of town.” She then paused, as though something had suddenly occurred to her, only to add, “But he has purchased one of the open plots not far from here.”

“Oh, do you mean on Heaven Crescent?” asked Mr. Redfield.

“Yes, I believe that’s the one.”

“That’s just around the corner,” said Mary, sounding delighted.

Dean took a step forward.

“Do you know when he’s planning on moving?”

“If everything goes according to plan, I believe he and his children should be able to move in by the end of the summer, right before the beginning of the school year.”

Dean took another step.

And that was when Castiel caught sight of him.

He blinked. And then his deadpan expression changed.

And Dean knew he had recognized him.

That he remembered him.

Castiel waved shyly at him, grinning, and Dean did the same.

The adults paused their boring (to Dean, anyway) conversation, noticing Castiel’s gesture. All three of them followed his gaze and only then realized Dean’s presence.

Mary called her son to join them, and he approached slowly.

“This is my eldest, Dean,” said Mary once Dean was next to her. “And this is Gabriel and Castiel.”

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hi,” he answered back.

There was a long silence during which the three boys studied each other, until Mary, upon watching her son, was blessed with an idea.

“I know how challenging it can be to complete errands with young children. So, if you and the boys want, they are welcome to stay here with us this afternoon while you finish your errands, Naomi.”

Mary’s suggestion was immediately supported by Gabriel and Castiel.

“That’s very generous of you,” said Naomi with honesty, “but I couldn’t possibly. It would be imposing.”

“Not at all.”

“I’m already looking after Ash and little Donna while their parents are doing just that,” said Mr. Redfield.

“And Gertie is here with her daughter. It might give them the opportunity to get to know some of the kids of the neighborhood.”

While Mary had made an excellent point, it took a bit more convincing, unsurprisingly to Dean. After all, Castiel and Gabriel were not Naomi’s children. Dean had difficulty believing that his uncle Bobby would have simply left him and Sam somewhere they had never been before and with people they had never met.

Even if Sam and Dean would have begged him to.

But then Naomi took into account that Mr. Redfield, at the very least, was no stranger to her or her nephews. He was a beloved employee of their family business and, more importantly, a friend of the family as well.

So, once Naomi was reassured that everyone, especially her nephews, had no objection with this arrangement, she accepted with the promise that she owed Mary, Mr. Redfield and Mrs. Middleton a favor for their kindness.

While Castiel and (a very excited) Gabriel got rid of their winter clothes, aided by Mr. Redfield and Dean, Naomi exchanged personal information in case of emergency with Mary, and then moved on to valuable advice regarding her nephews.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” said Naomi, nodding at Castiel, as he was delicately taking off his boots. “He’s a very quiet child. He won’t be a problem.”

And then, as if on cue, Gabriel, freed of his boots, scarf, hat and coat, swarmed in.

“This one, on the other hand,” she said, pointing at Gabriel, who was bouncing up and down, next to her, “watch him. He’s a handful. If you value your sanity, do _not_ give him sugar.”

Smiling, Mary lowered herself to meet young Gabriel. “Somebody has a lot of energy, huh?”

Gabriel stopped jumping around, and beaming at her, he nodded eagerly.

She gently pushed a lock of his hair from his eyes. After returning his smile, she said, “We’re baking a lot of treats this afternoon. Do you like baking?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”

His eyes lowered to the floor for a second.

“It’s okay.” And then she lowered her voice, and said, “Do you want to know a secret?”

He nodded, his eyes staring back at her.

“I haven’t done much baking myself and I’m struggling a bit. But maybe if you and I team up, we’ll have an easier time at it? Would you like that?”

He nodded vehemently.

She extended her hand to him, which he delicately took hold of, and remained still next to her.

“And what about you, Castiel? Do you feel like it’s something you want to try?”

He nodded, smiling timidly, as he kept glancing at Dean.

“I think we’ll be okay,” Mary told Naomi.

And after Naomi said goodbye to her nephews (“And be nice!”), Gabriel, Mary and Mr. Redfield headed down the hallway.

With Dean and Castiel following them, side by side.

When everyone arrived in the kitchen, the kids introduced themselves, since none of the others knew who their new friends were.

Nobody except Dean.

And so, with added helpers to the kitchen crew, most of the kids assited Mr. Redfield decorating the gingerbread cookies. Ash and Donna were perfectly comfortable working (and giggling) at the end of the table with Mr. Redfield and Celeste, who turned out to be very good at picking interesting colors.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Middleton and Mary kept altering between mixing the batter for the cakes, and preparing the dough for the pies, and cutting the cookie dough, with Sam seated next to his mother, and Gabriel on her other side.

And despite Naomi’s warning, Gabriel had proven to be very attentive to Mary’s instructions and was actually a great help.

He also constantly made grimaces to amuse Sam and the other kids.

And while his funny faces were hilarious and impressive, someone else had been holding Dean’s attention.

A fact that had not escaped his mother.

Not far from Sam, Dean had taken his seat back, but not before he had made sure to slide an extra chair right next to him so Castiel could sit at his side. And while they both worked on gingerbread cookies like the others, they did so mildly isolated from the others, on the other side of the table. Baking, it seemed, was far more interesting now that Castiel was there. They worked silently at first. They shared the candies and icing between them and admired each other’s work. And then, when they were waiting for the next batch of cookies to cool down properly, and only one cookie was left, Dean decided they should decorate it together.

And they continued doing so when more cookies arrived. Working together incited them to talk more, and by the end of the first hour, Dean and Castiel were cheerfully conversing, but not just about the cookies.

They discussed their favourite game to play during recess. Dean talked about how much he loved going to his uncle Bobby’s house because of the cars on his property. Castiel told him that his favourite uncle was Joshua because he was calm, and that his house was filled with so many plants, it made him think they were outside.

Eventually, when Mary and the others noticed that the kids’ attention span was beginning to fade, they concluded that it was time to let them play together in the living room. She opened the large doors across the hall, leading to the living room, so she, Mr. Redfield and Mrs. Middleton could still keep an eye on them while they continued baking. Mr. Redfield prepared coffee, Mrs. Middleton tended to Naomi’s ready-to-cook homemade dough, which turned out to be a godsend, and Mary, with the help of Gabriel, Dean and Donna, pushed some of the furniture aside to give the kids some room. Snacks and juice boxes were then distributed to each of them, and when she was satisfied that everyone had eaten and wasn’t in need of anything, she brought the radio to let them play and dance around to spend their energy freely.

“But no running,” she kindly warned them.

And in the end, when the pies, cakes and cookies were done, and Mrs. Middleton brought a plate of treats for the kids to enjoy before it was time to leave, Mary took a picture of the group of kids present.

“Everyone, say cheese!”

“Cheese!”

Every child smiled brightly at the camera.

All except one.

Dean did have a big smile on his face, but his head was turned towards the boy next to him, not the camera.

And while many would remember that day as when Dean and Castiel had met specifically because of this picture, the boys always knew the truth.

The unspoken knowledge of when their real first meeting had occurred. A fact hinted at between them many times over the years, but never discussed openly or with profundity for some reason.

Not until that one special night, many Christmas Eves later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This took a little longer than I had anticipated. But it's here! Thank you for your patience! Hopefully the next one won't take this long 😊  
> Happy reading and evening, and I hope you are all safe 💜

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to [Danica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danica_Dust/pseuds/Danica_Dust) and Landrala, who are always supportive and incredibly helpful!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://thefandomsinhalor.tumblr.com) if you feel like saying hello 😊
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you have a nice day and that you are safe ❤️


End file.
